


Falling into the Darkness

by windofbloom



Series: Fear of the dark [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, M/M, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Original Character(s), Post-Canon, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Psychological Horror, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 20:15:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16541453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windofbloom/pseuds/windofbloom
Summary: Markus saw affection, a devotion that made him shivered of happiness. But he also found out, what was off. It was...The hollowness.That just couldn’t be possible





	1. Denial

**Author's Note:**

> I had the idea during my drawing process of my entry to the #ConnorArmyArtMonth, And, I love vampires and rk1k, enough reasons to explore this thingy.
> 
> Wait there! This is incredible long, I wasn’t expecting that and I’m sorry.
> 
> Regardless the story:
> 
> —I’m not totally sure if we can consider it an AU, canon divergence or something in the middle. Who knows.  
> —I got an amazing book by Orlando Mejía Rivera, a Colombian internist and writer. He mentions Stanislaw Lem and his book The Invincible, the book set out an interesting idea: artificial evolution. I haven’t read the book yet; I recently found it but I’m taking the possibility of any kind of artificial evolution in this story. So, if someone here read the book or knows about Lem’s work, I’m sorry, I’m just taking a hypothesis to develop.  
> —I may or may not develop this in the proper way. But it was getting longer and longer, and this is not a multichapter story. Take it as your short mystery history of the day. The ones who leaves you with more questions than answers.  
> —Honestly, I guess this is more fantasy science than any kind of approximation to science fiction. But it was fun to write and draw.  
> —No beta, I didn't have the courage to ask someone to read this incredible long thingy. Not complete at least. Apologizes for any... weird thing.

«Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win».  
—Stephen King.

 

Markus stood up in front of five stretchers, five bodies covered by white blankets from head to toe. A quick scan told him three of them were human. The weak bluish light, the grey walls and the clean white walls surrounding made him feel trapped in one of those old thrillers Carl watched; whether he was a suspect, the protagonist or a future victim he still had to discover it.

But the blankets told its own story. Gruesome dried blood stained the white fabric, part of it had dripped from one of the stretchers to the floor. He concluded it would be the same story with those androids, if thirium didn’t dry and became almost invisible.

Markus mentally cursed, his expression plain and serious as he kept his composure. Innocently he wished the incident —whatever had happened— was a mere coincidence, two car accidents, a fight that ends with one dead dude, two dead androids thanks to some anti-android asshole. Whatever. But he was there and such incidents didn’t need his presence. They informed him when it was about androids, but they didn’t call him.

They did, not Connor, officially the other revolutionary leader with a thousand androids waiting for his instructions. Not Simon, Not Josh, nor even North who was the right hand of the revolution; a month had passed, and things always could go wrong, worse and worse every time they felt victory. He was getting exhausted, though he still had reasons to fight and those reasons made him stronger. He likes to think that.

Captain Fowler was to his right. He was with cross arms leaning back on an empty desk, Fowler stared at him with a frown and those eyes which killed even the most foolish hope inside the deviant leader. If he had the need to breath, he would had sighed in pure resignation, maybe despair.

Markus would prefer meet with Jeffrey Fowler again in their normal way. By phone, first as a favor then as an invaluable help; behind the ogre face and the horrible mood, the DPD Captain still was devoted to fair causes as Hank was. He just preferred being unnoticed.

No matter that the leadership was divided, Markus led the revolution first, to confront the world waiting for them he needed help.

To his left was Detroit’s Governor, Laurie J. Crawford, smoking like a chimney with her honeyed eyes fixed on the bodies. The corpses. Her hair was a messy black bun, the always tidy politician looked more like an anxious addict than the head leading Detroit, she was in her early forties, still beautiful and full of youth. However, at that single moment Markus saw her pale face and worried, she looked older and tired.

Markus met the Governor the second day after the revolution with North and Connor with him. The reunion was such an experience; part of him was sceptic. He didn’t want to believe in fake promises, she was reluctant at first, even so they managed to find a way to confront their points of view without attacking each other, Markus found more things in common than difference, at least regardless of what they wanted to achieve, later he discovered she was a huge fan of Carl[1], what explained why they could agree with many points.

That and the fact her brother and only family was utterly in love with an android, a big luck if he had to admit. Markus remembered all those little details in an attempt to avoid the reality: they had a problem.

“So, why am I here?” Markus knew he wouldn’t like the answer. He didn’t want to ask. They had to deal with bureaucracy, CyberLife absence, campaigns against them, some attempts of violence here and there when citizens came back to Detroit and even a protest demanding the president impeachment that spread like wildfire around the country —people had different motives, one was certainly androids—. Markus was there to deal with everything, ‘no violence’ he proclaimed, with Josh by his side, ‘defend yourself if needed’ North and Connor agreed and Simon —rA9 blessed him— managed to keep them together during those arguments.

They still had those problems. They still had divisions gravitating around the ex-deviant hunter working with them, the ones who fear him, those who hate him, the thousand he liberated from CyberLife who fully and blindly supported him.

Fowler cleaned his voice, Laurie J. Crawford smoke another cigarette.

“Five bodies, we found them during the weekend spread around Detroit.” Fowler said, he didn’t move an inch, though he was tense as a rock, stressed levels rising as he talked. “Three beggars, two androids without skin, maybe from the camps.”

Markus silently cursed again. He moved near the bodies to discover the ‘mystery’, the Governor flinched and looked at the floor, disgusting crossing her expression. Fowler just frowned, more uneasy; Markus removed the fabric over one of the humans.

A pair of dead eyes stared at the ceiling, the RK200 shivered, his expressions didn’t change, though his thirium pump went faster in shocked. Markus saw in those eyes even after death _fear_ , pure, real, a message asking for help that made him felt more alive than the different demonstration by itself.

Lucy said he saw hell. She could be right, however that man during his last seconds alive saw _the devil_. And that thing took something with him. The wound on the face came from above the nose to the neck, bloody slice of skin hung from the cheeks, there was no jaw, even so the slice of skin almost formed a big, clown-like smile; Markus forced himself to detail a little more. The body had been bitten, slice of flesh were absent from the wrist. The RK200 could see the bones.

He covered it again, closed his eyes and tried as best as he could, to calm dawn, images of the junkyard stocked in his mind as a horrible loop. He didn’t want to see the androids state, he didn’t want to see anything related anymore.

But he did. He had to. He went to one of the androids sides, the expression he found on those lifeless eyes felt worse; it wasn’t fear; it was _betrayal_ , bitter understanding of who would end her life; Markus covered the body again, cold realization filling every part of his processor. Fowler took the word once again.

“No jaw, no skin on neck, different wounds over the body. Damn shit they look like eaten by dogs”, or something worse. That part was floating like a ghost.

“Who has the case?”

“No one.” Laurie answered. Sharp as any leader should be when needed. “No one can know about this”; Fowler bit his lower bit maybe to not yell at her, he could do it with his team, with Lieutenant Anderson but not with the Governor, and Markus thought trying to regain full control of his emotions, that Jeffrey Fowler wouldn’t yell at a woman in his life.

“Someone would have to take it sooner or later” the Captain pointed, “They’re waiting my orders Governor”, Fowler tried to sound convincing, diligent in what had to be done. Markus supposed, it was already rumors floating among the police forces thanks to those who made the discovery.

“Who’s your candidate, Captain?” Markus had a couple of names in mind, none of them like it as much as the whole situations.

“Gavin Reed.”

It was Markus turn to frown, concern growing more and more in his chest. Things could always get worse, it was an inevitable. “What about Lieutenant Anderson? Or Connor? If you two are so willing to keep this as a secret, as I suspect you are, make the most reasonable move.” The RK800 should be there, with him or in his place.

Both humans shared a glare, with a gesture the man gave the word to the woman.

“I can do it, yes, but I won’t”, Laurie, looking ten years older of what she really was walked to the other side of the room, throwed the empty cigarettes package next to the exit door and snorted clearly frustrated, “ _Prickins_ wants Anderson’s head, and I hope Captain Fowler doesn’t have any problem with that” The man had a hundred problems, though he said nothing; he let his displeasure shine in his eyes, went through all his body languages.

“Perkins wants my head too”, served in a silver plate for sure, “and Connor’s. You could do something if you want.” Markus learned a lot living with Carl, but he learned twice in the cold week the revolution started without him being aware of it. And learned the triple during the past month; all about humans, their behaviors, their hate and political bullshit as North wisely called it.

The RK200 kept his plain tone of voice.

“Sure he wants, but you two are revolutionary leaders. The day you gave your message, the demonstration day, when you gave that speech you crossed the line between a dangerous machine, a human terrorist, to a figure. _A symbol_.” Laurie looked at him with annoyances to have to explain something easily to understand in her mind, behind that feeling Markus saw the eyes of those who counted on him; the way humans saw a leader wasn’t different of how androids did; “Of course the FBI can try, they tried to kill Fidel Castro in Cuba, they can success or they can fail, they can even try something dirty like what they do to the Black Panthers movement; no matter the result, the damage will be the same; people make stupid things when their leaders are killed or wounded, I’m sure androids have the same emotional response.” She paused, her hands squeezing each other.

She agreed to a pacific resolution, she would do everything to keep it like that.

“And Connor?” Markus hated the way human world worked.

“He’s more problematic than you, no offense. He betrayed the company which puts our actual president, killed some of its guards and came back with a literary army. You wouldn’t attack him. Humans are enough stupid to do it; the emotional response will be the same. Riot, war” she bit her lips, squeezed her hands again and thought about how much she wanted ten cigarettes; “I cannot allow it to happen Markus, if I must sacrifice a man for it, I’ll do it. If _Prickins_ wants Lieutenant Hank Anderson fired, he will be fired.”

“We didn’t call Connor,” Fowler added, “Because the FBI have their eyes on him.”

Of course, if the one who fit more as a terrorist among them started wandering the city, lurking around. It would be the perfect excuse to accuse him.

“You haven’t answered my question.” He didn’t want to hear it anyway.

“We need you to try to find the android responsible of this.” Fowler declared, aware of the accusation in his worlds.

The RK200 made a huge effort to keep his voice steady. He knew that would be the outcome; he just didn’t want to hear it, to face it. “Why it has to be an android?” the question sounded stupid even for himself. The second he saw the eyes of the dead android he knew it was one of them. But it hurt, the more the idea settled in his mind the more painful it become.

“Who else would be?! A god damn zombie dog?” Jeffrey Fowler cut his worlds, Laure. J Crawford continued the conversation.

“You just need to tell us who do you think is guilty; you’re their leader they would never suspect of you. Give us a name and is over”, she tried to sound polite, the tone politicians used when they wanted to hide their indifference. “And don’t tell anyone.”

“You want me to _spy my people_ , and _lie to my friends_ ” Lie to Connor, the only thought felt wrong.

“Call it as you want, but we need you.”

Markus hated the world ‘need’ more and more as the time passed.

 

* * *

 

  

Markus thought a walk would be the best for him, since he couldn’t run away of all that madness.

He wished so bad to stay with Carl.

Outside ‘New Jericho’ he bumped into the blue haired traci, Belle[2]. Markus had known her better since the time a clear division inside them went impossible to ignore; among the androids from CyberLife Warehouse she and her lover, Ava, stood up for Connor.

If Markus had North, Simon and Josh as his closer advisors, Connor had Belle and Ava, what was a huge surprise since other androids he chanced had a big displeasure for him, if not hate as Daniel the PL600 they managed to repair had proclaimed with no fear at all.

New Jericho, or just Jericho was now located in the limits of Detroit. During the early days of the revolution they first goal was finding a new place, not to hide in the darkness like criminals. A place to call ‘home’; with such a mission in mind, Simon found what was left behind by a company: two buildings with one in the process, it was a new condominium idea, however different problems regardless administration and money made it impossible to finish. And so, humans abandoned it for them to take it. The Governor was fine with that.

Saw her standing in the entrance made him pushed aside the hideous murders and the conversation with relief. But something in the WR400 was out of place. Markus couldn’t say what it was not even when he was just a few meters from her. She smiled at him when their eyes met, Markus returned with a smaller, calm gesture.

“Look at this, the deviant leader actually can smile!” Different to other androids, Belle never had problems with made fun of him every time she could. Markus shrugged and stood up by her side. He could smile, of course; he used to do it a lot during the good old times.

Markus realized how such a simple act became weird, like a forgotten old habit. He didn’t have many reasons to do it anyway. He wouldn’t have at the end of the journey he started.

“Are you in a good position to judge me?” Belle fake an indignant face, hand on her breast as she was truly hurt by those words. Markus grinned, and she decided her mission was ‘successful.’

“You know, we have a good reason to smile. And both have brown eyes.” Belle winked at him, Markus felt a jolt of nervousness and stupid shyness. “Oh, you blushed! Who would say our fearless leader can be cute.” Where was a riot, an anti-android demonstration or a politician when Markus needed?

“Androids can’t blush”, he saw couple of messages alerting him about the speed of his thirium pump regulator and rising temperature in his peripheral vision. _Shit_.

“We can, and you know it”, she was right. Their skin was made to imitate every single aspect of human’s skins. Goosebumps, scars, moles, blush. It was only a serial of commands, zeros and ones they did to accomplish a task. Deviancy was grateful, maybe they _real nature_ , but also could be a pain in the ass.

“Have you been talking with Simon recently, Belle?” he used his best conciliator voice; even so, the idea of something off around the WR400. No, _in her_ came back. He tried to dismiss the idea, he only managed to move it to second place. Still there, annoying but strong. “Where’s Ava?” one day North told him he would fried his advance prototype processor if he kept thinking too much; she was half serious half joking, at that instance with such an odd idea he felt she was right.

Belle tilted her head; the long blue hair fell graceful on her shoulder. Her smiled changed to a more reserved gesture “She’s taking care of some business” Markus nodded and left it like that. He was the curious type, sometimes he asked too much (North was the first one to get upset, or the first one he could notice); he learned to read when someone didn’t want to answer anymore.

Even so, Markus scanned her. He tried to resolve what was now a feeling. He wondered, when he found nothing physically weird on her, if androids could have what humans called ‘sixth sense’, truth or not, it was annoying. The RK200 convinced himself it was just stressed thanks to the mission of finding a guilty inside his people. Or a scapegoat in the worst case chose by the Governor or the Captain. He could not allow it.

“I’ll go inside.” He needed so bad to clear his mind.

“I won’t take away more time.”

Their goodbye was a smile and a nod, Markus didn’t notice the way Belle’s LED flickered red, bright carmine barely hide by her hair. Or the way her expressions change to a serious, vacuous face; it didn’t matter, he wasn’t supposed _to see_ it.

Not yet.   

A repetitive cycle of “Markus” in hopeful, tender voices welcomed the deviant leader. Markus nod at every one of them, he saw their smiles and felt worse. They were his people, his comrades, in some way his brothers and sisters inside the fight he started. None of them was a murder. They just _couldn’t_ be.

The second he closed the door of his little apartment, there in the last floor of the main building, whit his back laying on it Markus felt awful. Worse than a coward. He didn’t have a lot, most of them didn’t. His space to hide himself was decorated with paintings, tables here and there and some chairs, open windows to not feel like a caged bird; one bed that was there when they arrived, and he didn’t move it.

He shouldn’t have accepted that mission; he should have denied any kind of accusation against them and move on but that would be a mistake. If the media discovered the murders, if humans _knew_ about it, Markus didn’t want to think about the outcome, nor even tried to calculate different results in case he had to do something.

 _Keep calm_. He repeated to himself. He still had doubts; he always had. He was stupid, reckless; he thought humans had to listen to them, he thought that even with their history of war and hate, humans still had enough empathy to accept them, to change. Some had it; some of them listen, but some of them didn’t. Inside those who claim to be by their side a considerable number still were cautions, if they saw what he saw in the morgue there wouldn’t be any desperate song or peaceful demonstration which could save them.

Sacrifice one (he prayed to only one) to protect them all.

Markus wished North was there with him and not in the other side of the country, she was stronger than him. Yes, her violence even if it was reasons behind it wouldn’t lead them to the point they were now, with a bright future to conquer (Or maybe she could do it; probabilities weren’t perfect. There was always a small percent of changing) but she was ready to fight with nails and teeth for freedom. Markus loved her for that, loved her resolution when he was a mess of fears and questions. He still loved her, not in the same way, none of them did, although love was as dynamic as life itself.

He thought, and still did she was more suitable than him to lead a revolution, he considered himself as an idealistic not as a leader. Why everyone, even her, counted on him it would be an unresolved mystery. Carl told him he was one of those who would lead during darker times, Markus never asked for it, but he never refused. Now he had to face the consequences of his idealism.

“Markus”

The deviant leader almost jumped out of his synthetic skin, it was pure lucky he didn’t do it. He looked where the sounds came to find a pair of brown eyes. The eyes Belle were talking about minutes ago, those which he didn’t need to learn to love because the feeling felt perfect. As it was to be in that way. Markus stood up better, he tried to form a smile without looking confused.

“Hey, Connor. You scared me”, Connor grinned; for an instance Markus saw something on his expression he hadn’t seen before.

“I thought you were a fearless leader, deviant.” Markus stared at him faking annoyance.

Was he there when the RK200 entered? Sat in front of him, in that meticulous position he still had, like a child from a private, rich school or... _No, he wasn’t_ , said his logic. But he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings, he just wanted to escape, cowardly, pathetic. Connor stood up and closed their spaces, a soft smile in his face with that little tilt. Markus felt the revolution was inside his whole system.

They had been getting closer and closer, the more the time passed. Played like two tango dancers. Sometimes too close, sometimes too far.

“How long have you been there?” in silence, looking at him. _Staring_ at him. Markus felt what humans could describe as chills through his spine. The feeling became stronger when he noticed it. Notice what? Nothing. No. It was there, or it wasn’t there. The same thing he was trying to find when he talked to Belle.

“Enough”, Connor took Markus by the hand, lead the way to his bed. They sat there looking at each other, holding hands and fingers laced; Markus knew very well they looked like teenagers in love, maybe he always was a romantic, or he learned it from Carl, but they idea made him happy. Warm. But the position that became a sort of habit when they were alone was different at that exact instant.

Markus looked at Connor with almost the same smiled he kept for the ex-hunter. He tried, because if he was getting mad; he shouldn’t concern anyone. If the RK800 noticed it or not, he remained in silence, with his own soft smile, tenderly squeezing Markus hands.

Both RK prototypes had been ‘dancing’, flirting or just playing around since the opportunity appeared. That was, to be clear, a couple of days after the demonstration. Humans needed years to understand when a couple they form wouldn’t work, North and Markus only needed days and a glance of peace. If they would have died to try to achieve freedom, do it by the side of a love one would have been good. A last hope, a last smile; they survived and have time to understand. They want to be with each other, only not as they primarily thought.

Deviancy was also a process of learning.

With Connor was different. Curiosity first from both sides, understanding came second; then empathy and finally the strong desire to keep an eye on each other, to take care and be by the other side. ‘Love’ or what looked like love was a logical answer to their playthrough. Even so, they never talked, just act.

“Where were you?” Connor voice was sweet, both got closer to each other as much as they could, still Markus thought something was different.

“Wandering around, the search of inspiration never ends.” Markus smiled but his words felt heavy, utterly bitter. Lying wasn’t in his primarily function, it was worse when it was to someone he loved. Connor nodded, the synthetic skin of his right hand gave way to the porcelain white of his true self. Markus looked at Connor’s hand for a second, then at the other prototype. He saw inside those brown, soft eyes a question for permission.

Markus saw affection, a devotion that made him shivered of happiness. But he also found out, what was off. It was...

The hollowness.[3]

That just couldn’t be possible.

They interfaced. Markus pushed the idea to the bottom of his system as the memory of his last meeting. It had to remind as a secret, so he focused as much as he could on that feeling; on Connor’s memories and his own. Connor chucked. Markus was sure he had the same face of a child when the teacher asked him something out of nowhere.

“What?”

“Do I really scare you that much when you enter?” Connor didn’t try to hide his amusement.

The deviant leader felt stupidity relief, ashamed, but relief. “In my favor, I’ll say I was just distracted.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Markus was about to protest when Connor cut of the interfacing, so suddenly that Markus felt empty and lost, the hollowness idea came back to the front of his system; the RK800 moved away with a cocky smile. “You should rest Markus.” Before the RK200 could ask, Connor left the room. For the second time in that day, he knew if he needed to breathe he would sigh again, now to show his confuse.

Alone in his room, Markus looked at his hand and thought about what he discovered or what he believed he discovered. He repeated in his mind every moment he was alone with Connor, since the very beginning when the ex-hunter pointed a gun to his face, to that single instant; _Connor had changed_ , was the result. His eyes were different because something was missing, what Carl would call ‘a spark of life’. In that sense Connor was hollow, a shell of what he used to be. What was a stupid conclusion, because those emotion they shared where real.

Connor wasn’t just a machine, Markus shivered, an unreasoning fear grew up to fast to be stopped. He hugged himself, ‘breath’ in and out to cool his system; he had seen a lot of androids; he had freed them, he remembered the first time he looked at his reflection in a mirror. All of them shared the same eyes. They weren’t empty. The hollowness in the other hand felt like see through a pitch-black hole, with the assurance that another _thing_ was staring back.

Stupid idea, an irrational feeling. Stupid as the pop up a message he received a warning of an intruder lurking inside his memory data, his whole system in fact, during the period he interfaced with Connor.

Maybe North was right, and Markus fried his processor.  

 

 

* * *

 

 

Two days later, the police found another body.

Markus received the news early in the morning by the Governor herself; she was trying to pressure him to find answers as soon as possible; he didn’t need to be an expert of human behavior to know it. The deceased was another beggar, a female who showed more brutal behavior.

Markus didn’t ask to see her; it was enough for him to know she was dead, presumably by an android. He had killed humans before. The man at the Stratford Tower, the ones who attacked them following orders inside the ‘old Jericho’; Markus knew he was a murder no matter his reasons, no matter if it was in self-defense (At least, not for him); he killed and he regret it every day. He hadn’t faced the consequences of those acts, not yet; he would have to sooner or later. His remorse could be the reason why he clung so badly to the possibility of finding another suspect.

He didn’t want to look at them, as the way he looked at himself. He couldn’t bear it.

Laurie said it was pure lucky all the victims were beggars except for the androids, no one was around asking for them or trying to find them. But her words had the obvious suspicious between lines; they didn’t need to be detectives to see the pattern. What was lucky for her was no more than cruel, methodic actions.

Markus looked at each one of the faces of his comrades, there in the meeting hall what they also used as a ‘distress hall.’ Only to gather and talk. The two main condominiums were joined by a corridor in the fifteenth floor; half of the walls and the roof were made of glass. The architect included an extra hall as the entrance of the glass corridor in the main building with a large window on every wall. It was a beauty but an expensive idea.

That was their meeting hall, ‘distress hall.’ They could see everything. They were high enough not to be seen. Markus let them decorate it as they wanted, and so they place was full of different kind of furniture, artificial and natural flowers and android birds here and there. It was welcoming, warm, almost a paradise after the dark, cold and barely intact ship.

The RK200 had his ‘special corner’ there, near to one of the large windows. He looked at the androids reunited that morning, unfolded a list with their names and serial numbers, and remembered the way he met each one of those androids with meticulous detail even for him: what they say, what he answered. Spying them was not a difficult task. Markus only needed to sit and listen, what made it worse because he was the last living being they would distrust.

 _Do it fast, and maybe, maybe, no one is responsible. Maybe it’s a complicated plan to destroy the revolution, maybe humans did it_. Because humans had been killing each other in monstrous ways with no remorse, humans were conniving beings after all. _Who says, is not the FBI? Who says is not Perkins himself!_ The proofs said it, the wounds that wasn’t possible for normal human strength. The lifeless eyes of that female android too damaged to even reactivate her for a few seconds. Markus doubted the man who wanted death and dismantled would go that far to stop them.

Then, he _heard it_.

Markus first thought was dismissed the noise, it first sound like static or white sound. It grew louder, not enough to be perceived by everyone because the rest keep their conversation with no signs of problem; the RK200 payed more attention to realize it wasn’t a simple noise. It sounded more like a murmur or whispers, words repeat faster and faster. His mind brought a couple of files with the sound of rats scratching a wall as the more accurate comparison.

Hundreds of rats.

Markus tried to find the source.

He looked around, no one seemed to notice it. The whispers got stronger, still unnoticed, but Markus heard it too well to even catch words, and then sentences. _Quit_. Markus caught, he identified five groups of androids that day. _Be faster_. Markus pressed his lips, the situation was getting annoying, to not say disturbing; _he told us not to get close. Right? Close to him, not yet. Not yet_.

Markus located the source in a small group at the corner, six androids. Two of them gave their back, but Markus was sure they were the ones doing the repulsive sound. He stood up to confront them at the same time, the group looked at him as if they were aware all that time of him, Markus wished he had not crossed looks at them, because the _hollowness_ was there, a grotesque glimpse of how a being without soul would look.

Someone decided for him, if the best reaction was approach or not.

The RK200 turned to his right when he felt a gripped around his forearm, he expected, frightened as the day he thought he had killed Leo, to meet a pair of void eyes. It was Simon with his gentle smile. Markus face should be worth stamping because Simon frowned immediately, looking clearly surprised and worried. “What happened?”

Markus didn’t answer, he turned to look at the android group again, except they weren’t looking at him. They were laughing, and the noise wasn’t there anymore. The whispers had been gone.

“Did you hear something?” Markus asked, he was sure of what he heard and saw, however, for an instant he couldn’t avoid the probability of being wrong. Even if it was a small percent.

“Hear what?” Simon looked at the spot his leader and friend was looking at, then at the RK200 again, “Are you okay Markus?”

Something like rats scratching.

“Nothing. I’m fine, Simon.”

Simon rolled his eyes, with both index fingers he moved the corners of Markus lips, “There, this is the time when you smile. After saying your ‘fine,’ you smile, so people can pretend they believe you.” Markus touched his cheeks like a little boy, Simon choked, how the android who came proclaiming freedom and being alive, brave and strong, could be so naive?

The PL600 glanced at the androids again maybe too serious, maybe for too long, double checked never killed anyone. “I guess you haven’t seen Connor today, if so you would have smiled”; that was his turn to smile as a ‘naughty bitch’ as North described it with amusement.

“We’re not going to have that conversation again.” Markus enjoyed deviancy but didn’t like feel ashamed. Most of the time that was his reasons to avoid that special topic, Simon had a good eye, he was the first one to ask him about his feelings for the ex-hunter. And the one who kept pushing him to talk about it.

Still…

Markus hadn’t forgotten the fear, and now he was totally sure something odd was happening. “Do you know where he is?” it didn’t mean Markus didn’t want to stay with Connor, by his side, or at least knew about him; they hadn’t met during those two days, Markus spent his time in Jericho, he made sure everything was alright and tried to find something.

“Nop. Maybe with Lieutenant Anderson”, Simon paused, his expression turned serious. “Are you sure everything is okay?” he asked, Markus wished he could tell him, “Nothing you’d like to discuss?”

This time Markus smiled. “Everything is alright”.

He would make everything ‘alright’. That was his responsibility after all. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Against the Governor desires, the next day detective Gavin Reed took the case. Lieutenant Hank Anderson was fired that day.

Captain Fowler called to give him the new; Markus wasn’t surprised, but he wasn’t happy. Sat in front of a white canvas big enough to cover him from anyone who entered the apartment –It also blocked his own vision, but why he should be worry about it? –, an opened window behind him, the bed to his right side and a desk to his left covered with brushes and oil painting; his intention was no other to pretend being busy, justify the way he locked himself that day.

He felt guilty for Hank. Even if he knew he wasn’t directly responsible – _maybe he was_ –, his actions, his desires had moved a lot of different gears at the same time; the consequences were just beginning to appear still in the surface.

When the conversation passed from the ex-Lieutenant to his own progress, Markus was honest. He had nothing. Just the signals of his possible madness – _Could androids suffer from dementia?_ – or damaged processor. That part was, of course, a secret; Markus kept to himself the highest probabilities to not find anything.

But he knew it was a stupid hope, he knew he had something.

He repeated the recording in his system of the noise, their words. The androids before and after Simon. He repeated a total of fifty-nine times with different speeds to analyze every fragment. If it was related or not to the murders, Markus would have to consider it as a fact sooner or later against to his own desires. In the sixtieth repetition, the RK200 wondered why he was the only one who heard it.

It wasn’t louder enough, but it wasn’t too low to not be noticed. Could those voices being reproduce in a different radio wave? It wasn’t a crazy idea, not as surreal as the whole incident. Markus made a pout pondering, the one Connor and North loved to see but never said it out loud. With his eyes closed he repeated the words one by one.

‘Quit’, ‘be faster’. Markus resented not to catch the full sentence. He assumed they were talking about future actions. ‘He told us not to get closer. Right? Close to him, not yet. Not yet’. That last sentence became a loop. They were following someone, if an android was telling them what to do, it had to be someone from Jericho because at that point in their history, every android in Detroit became part of it. 'Who' and 'why' were the real questions; he also had the second individual, the one they had prohibited to approach.

A human? Another android?

Or…

The announcement of an incoming call stopped his train of thoughts. The deviant leader considered not to answer until he knew who was calling.

_«Hey Robo-Jesus!»_

Markus laughed, he noticed how his stress levels decreased thanks to her voice. North sounded happy, cheerful.

_«Don’t call me that way, please»._

She laughed at her own joke and his reaction. The right hand of the revolution, the strong, smart and determined North had a beautiful, full of life laugh.

 _«I’m your ‘ex’ and your friend, I call you whatever I want»_. North faked annoyance, Markus missed her a lot.

_«How are things going?»_

_«Not bad, assholes here and there. A bunch of idiots camping around us with anti-android messages. Nothing new»._

Markus noticed she was weirdly relaxed. During the days the manifestations against them started after the revolution she was always worried, her stress levels dangerously higher, and she could have killed perfectly only with her look.

_«Are you sure?»_

_«Of course, I am! When have I not been?»_

_«I can remember a couple of times—»._

_«Shh! That never happened»_. She paused, maybe to talk with someone else. _«We’re fine Markus, really. These people, these humans that are helping us… they aren’t that bad»_

If androids breathe, Markus would have choked.

_«Who are you? What did you do with North?»_

_«Fuck you. I’ll leave now»_

_«No, wait! North, don’t leave!»_

She laughed, and Markus groaned but smiled.

 _«I’ll tell you when I get back»_.

_«Deal»_

They remained in silence, no matter if they weren’t ‘lovers’ anymore, both treasured to be with each other. Even if they were connected by a wireless call.

_«How are you, Markus?»_

_«I’m fine»._

He wished so bad to tell her.

_«Are you sure?»_

_«Why do you ask?»_

_«You have a horrible habit of keeping everything to yourself»._ As straightforward as ever. _«You know, you can count on me, always»._

Markus had to suppress the urge to tell her with all his might. Her soft voice, the gentle and lovely one she kept for the ones she really appreciated didn’t help.

 _«I’m perfectly fine, North»_.

She hummed not totally sure but opted to change the topic. _«Is everything okay with Connor?»_

_«Yes ma’am, everything is okay with Connor»._

He wasn’t totally sure that was a lie, but it felt like one. The hollowness could be just a stupid idea due to stress. He wanted to believe it.

_«Don’t mock me. You know I like him, but if he dares to hurt you I’m going to —»._

_«North, please»._

_«Right, you know the rest. And I won’t be the only one, Simon and Josh will help me»._

In other times those comments would make him feel ashamed, that morning wasn’t the case. Markus considered his options, with nothing to lose he asked.

_«North, have you seen something different?»_

_«Different?»_ She suspected, of course she would. It was clear in her voice. The WR400 was the suspicious type after all, with a damn good intuition if he had to admit. _«Markus, tell me what’s happening»_.

_«Nothing. I just want to make sure you’re okay»._

If the RK200 was convincing he didn’t know, and never had the time to discover it.

 _«No, nothing different here… although»_ , she paused, Markus felt the anxiety growing inside him. _«Some androids here are kind of weird. I get used to it, but they gathered a lot in small groups and whisper. I have no clue what the fuck they say, as long as it doesn’t affect our cause I don’t care»._

 _Protect yourself, North_. Protect from what? Androids? They’re people? And why? Because he had stupid suspicious that could be nothing, or could be a lot, but with no answers it was pointless. Before Markus said something, North spoke.

_«I have to go. We’ll talk later, and Markus, take care»_

She cut the call. Markus sure he had to find the truth.

No matter what.

He stood up with a new, strong resolution. And a sort of hope with it; as soon as he enlightened the mystery, he would find the one responsible for the murders and move on. He wished, almost prayed, the guilty was human, or an android with a pretty good reason. ─there wasn’t good reasons for such violence, but he wanted to believe—.

Markus didn’t go too far, not at least with the same intention he planned to. As soon as he opened the door Connor was there, with the hollowness in his eyes but the sparkle of happiness and love that made Markus surrender with no complains; it was terrifying, like look at something _new,_ not in the good way. A thing that instead of being the one he loved was so much different, that even looks like this new creature was wearing his past self as a disguise.

Markus could puke just with that thought, if he could puke.

“Hello, Markus”. Connor smiled and tilted his head. Without the CyberLife uniform, Connor had taken a taste for long coats, a range of blues and grays with more formal clothes. It could be the beginning of a personality or the reminders of his time in the company. Markus liked more his oversized clothes.

 _Act normal_. The RK200 smiled without moving an inch of his position bellow the door frame. “Connor”, he mentally cursed as soon as he caught his own voice. It sounded insecure. “I didn’t know you'd come”. _Don’t be stupid_. Honestly where were his social skills? “Where were you these days? I didn’t see you around”.

If Connor noted or wondered about the awkwardness of the situation, he didn’t show it. Markus felt nervous, most of all upset by the lack of response. It was impossible ‘the most advance android made by CyberLife’ didn’t notice his behavior, the RK800 chose to ignore it as Markus previously did and, if he had to admit it, he would do again for the sake of preserving their relationship.

“I was with Hank and Sumo” was Connor’s answers. He didn’t bring the recent ‘change’ inside the police department; Markus didn’t either. “Can I?”

Markus begged, that instant was the last time he considered not letting Connor in.

“Sure, be my guest”

Connor made his way into the apartment; he took Markus hand and made him enter too. The RK200 closed the door behind him as a habit, though he regretted it immediately trapped by a sudden fear. Markus pushed that feeling away or he tried to do it. No matter if the RK800 was lying to him, hiding something; no matter that strange, odd idea that lied inside him like a cursed instead of a reality. He was Connor, _his Connor_.

He had to be.

The one who stroked the back of his hand with his thumb, making his system went crazy. Connor was doing it now; he looked at the canvas and then at Markus; the deviant leader saw in those brown eyes curiosity and a silent questioning but most important, he saw there was no hollowness, nothing was missing. It was those lovely, alive eyes looking at him with deep love.

 _But_.

Fuck his insecurities.

Markus hugged him and he almost jumped in the process, crossed his arms around the other’s neck; Connor gasped but managed to stay in his place as a solid monolith, his arms around the deviant leader waist.

“Did I do something good?” the RK800 asked, he pecked Markus on the cheek at the end of his words.

“You’re here, is not that enough?”

Both laughed at how corny it sounded. But Markus couldn’t forget the previous assumption. It was there giving him warnings and possible scenarios. _‘Stay away’_ repeated a couple of times before being replaced to a _‘be careful’_ ; Markus ignored it as much as he could, chose to refuse to believe it. Connor touched his face, and with the same hand offered him to interface with his most tender smile.

Markus wasn’t strong enough to refuse.

It had gone wrong since the beginning.

First it was a warning, a lonely message showing a long code and a red exclamation point. Markus disregarded it. All he cared about was Connor feelings and his own. They shared loyalty, the mutual concern, that simple but pure desire to protect each other; then it came a couple of messages at the same time _‘connection lost’_ , it said. _What damn connection?_ The RK200 still refuse to move away. He closed his eyes and tried to find the source of the ‘error’.

 _‘Unable to connect’_.

It wasn’t until a jolt of _pain_ made him cry and stumbled, that Markus cut the interfaced and stepped back. Androids didn’t feel pain, not as humans did. They ‘nerves’ or better said a copy of a perfectly functional nerve system worked more as a highway were the commands from the processor to the limbs, or any other operational part circulate in two directions. When a breaking off that simple but functional structure happened they feel it. Sometimes they ignored it, sometimes it caused a reaction they knew it had to resemble being hurt to keep being human alike.

The acknowledge of being consciously alive transformed the initial sensation into pain.

He looked at his hand, then at Connor. Connor did the same, his expression screamed regret more than confusion.

“I’m sorry, Markus I—”, Connor bit his bottom limp, his LED flashed yellow and turned into red almost immediately. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I thought I—“. Connor refused to finish, instead he kept silence.

The hollowness was there again. Markus knew with bitter displeasure it was always there.

“You thought what? What are you hiding me?”

What on earth was happening.

Before Markus could ask again the whispers came back, this time louder. It could be the symphony of a delusional mind because it seemed the noise came from every corner of the room. From the roots of the building itself. The dreadful perspective made Markus realize it was an echo.

“Shit”, surely Connor hatred himself to let his frustration came through his mouth.

Markus was more than pissed up, he felt _betrayed_. Whatever was happening Connor was part of it; his mismatched eyes glowed with sour determination the moment he turned away and run to find the source. He heard Connor called his name, maybe he would try to catch him.

 _Try harder_.

The echo guided him towards the corridor to the emergency stairs. There, the sound wasn’t just an echo but a fluctuating wave of conversations. Markus counted ten voices at once, though he didn’t care to understand their words, it wasn’t his main goal. The RK200 went down the stairs until he reached the seventeenth floor, and he opened the door with a clean, fast hit.

He barely registered the little ‘crack’ when the door crashed against the door.

The conversation became louder. Markus caught some words without effort. He just needed know exactly where the source was located among the different apartments; he walked slowly, his eyes move from right to left with the care of a hunter. He reached the first half of the corridor, and then three doors beyond one was opened.

Nobody left.

It was an invitation, or a trap. Markus didn’t care.

Connor found him when he was five steps apart.

“Markus, don’t go!”

The RK200 faced him, he narrowed his eyes and almost felt they were repeating their first meeting. “ _Why_ not?”

“Let me explain to you what’s happening”, Connor offered, he approached to Markus with a plea written in his face. He pronounced his words carefully, his voice as gentle and empathetic as possible. “Come with me. We can talk about this. But not here”.

“Talk to me now, _here_ ”

Connor nodded, when he was closer enough he touched Markus right hand, he didn’t’ reciprocate the gesture. “I’ll explain everything” he claimed. Connor moved his hand to Markus forearm and squeezed softly. “Do you trust me, Markus?”

How cruel.

Markus smiled with irony, with his left hand he covered his face before look at Connor again. He felt extremely tired, _emotionally drained_. “How shameless, Connor”, the RK800 smirked with those puppy eyes which claimed to be harmless. “I trusted you after you tried to kill me, and I trust you know even if you’re trying to stop me, _again_ ”. It hurt, though when Connor touched his hand one more time Markus didn’t refuse to weave their fingers.

“It’s okay Markus; this is the last time”.

“Let me ask you again, what’s—”

Connor smirked faded, the next second Markus saw those error messages again like a waterfall. The pain came back, stronger, coming from his hand to the rest of his body as it was getting a…

“What are you—?”

Short circuit.

_‘Error. Connection unable’_

“This is the last time”.

The RK200 listened, before his system turn off with a last ‘error’ message. Reddish as blood, as the disgusting, hideous wounds on the corpses in the morgue.


	2. Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second part. Because it ended being incredible and stupidely long.

Reboot himself was far away a pleasure sensation. To put in human words, it was like faint and wakes up with a hung over. His system lagged and took five seconds more to be fully operational, what for androids was a lot of time; Markus had experienced before, twice living with Carl, the one in the junkyard and this one, but now the lagged was still there even after ten seconds. A time Markus used to wonder if he finally had fried his processor.

It was eight o’clock.

He tried to stand up, the world felt fuzzy though he managed to sit. _Bed_. He was at his apartment, the empty canvas, brushes and oil painting still there as he left it; the last pieces of his memory flowed when his system was hundred percent operational; Markus clenched his fists against his thighs and cursed. Connor had a lot to explain, and it would be better he had a god damn good reason.

Markus tried to be upset, he really tried. However, after the feeling of having been betrayed faded, what Markus found was a strong sadness and panic. A cold sweat sensation captured him as claws tightening his thorium pump, _his heart_.

Before moving from his place, Markus checked one by one the error messages he received. Among them he found the long code that came first; he should have paid attention; it was longer than he thought, similar to his own code, the one who all androids share as the most basic structure, though different in more aspects. Like a bad copy, no, a totally new structure that took the old code apart, twist, change and reassemble.

One, two, three times. Again, and again. An infinite cycle with no apparent reason.

Markus understood the code he was analyzing was a leaked, that knowledge made him felt disgusted. But concerned. That shouldn’t happen. He played again the full code to notice it wasn’t complete. More important among those zeros and ones that at first lacked of order the RK200 found something.

And that was…

The deviant leader sprinted towards the seventeenth floor. Shocked and horror filling every part of him, he didn’t notice how lonely the building was. How quiet. How dark. Not until he was in front of the black door and he felt the heavy awareness of his solitude. He called Josh and hoped like a fool everything was a bad joke.

_«Hey there!»_

_«Where are you?»_

Josh took his time to answer. Markus imagined his confused expression, but he was relief to receive an answer.

_«With the Governor, remember? The public debate about androids rights and artificial life at the university?»_

_Oh_ , the world hadn’t stopped moving.

_«And Simon?»_

_«He’s with me. Hey, is something bothering you? You sound disturb»._

_«I’m fine Josh, give the Governor my greetings»._

Markus saw around him one more time, the dark corridor, the lights of Detroit barely reaching him with flickering movements. It was now or never and then, he opened the door and he wondered if it was too late to find whatever Connor didn’t want him to see. To discover.

It wasn’t too late.

The RK200 entered the pitched black room. An attempt to turn on the lights resulted in a failure; the light system had been hacked; as soon as he scanned the place, he saw pair of eyes looking at him. Vacuous eyes, white an empty but hungry, and for the first time Markus heard the true nature behind the noise that resemble rats stretching walls, fast whispers, cut words inside irrational sentences. He regretted it with all his might.

The noise, the whispers, the words transformed into a guttural symphony of growls. Or something else, it sounded too different to imitate animals or humans. It fluctuated between deep and high tones creating different peaks; it almost sounded like they were choking, victims of a terrible suffocation. Androids didn’t breathe, and so that impression was a futile effort to find logic inside madness; Markus forced himself to move after felt frozen in his place, step by step. Josh was right. He was disturbed, somehow scared but not enough to leave, even then he computed the best way to scape just in case.

Twenty pair of eyes set over him. Markus refused to count more. Twenty androids were standing around him, like a martial court with their mouth half open. He followed the line they formed and when he reached the end ─ dear rA9 how long it felt, how trapped he felt during those few meters like a small bird in a hole─. Three more androids turned their backs; the RK200 caught sight of the figures of four more, they were kneeling, biting. No. _Tearing apart_ with hands and mouths the body of an AP700 who had already shut down.

Near the android, Markus distinguished what was left of a human. ‘Eaten by dogs’ was how Captain Fowler described the state of the bodies in the morgue, Markus would say eaten by monsters.

And those monsters were his comrades. His friends, his people.

 _Stop_.

His voice box refused to work, no matter how many orders Markus gave it, how many times he tried to say something, anything. He couldn’t.

 _Stop, please, you’re not… we’re not._ He remembered the man at Stratford Tower, the exact second he pulled the trigger and shot, because the result of his analysis was that he had to do it or someone inside his group would pay the consequences. He remembered the coldest of his rational decision as a machine and nor as an alive being. _I’m not…_

“That’s enough”. It was weird he could get surprised to his own voice. For how distant it felt. “Enough”. He repeated as soon as the ones kneeling turned to face him with clear intentions to attack him.

They didn’t.

An ST300 moved from the line to his side. She smiled with a crooked smile.

“Please, get out of here”. She talked with peaks of deep and high tones, the same way the growls sounded. “He’s not going to be happy if you’re here”.

Maybe, deep inside they still were the androids Markus knew and they could find a solution.

The deviant leader tried so hard to believe in the impossible.

 

 

* * *

 

Markus hadn’t thought of Elijah Kamski since the day he met Carl.

It was snowing when he arrived, a new day had come. The address was attached in his memory, a last instruction from his creator: _“if something happens, come to see me”_. A lot had happened, but he never felt the need to come back.

Not until now.

He was scared of what he discovered. Scared of the people he would blindly trust few days ago but now, he couldn’t recognize. Not anymore. He considered talked to Simon and Josh about it but then, a small percent told him not to do it, what if they had changed too? Markus could call North, but would he receive an honest answer? Would he like to know it? Doubts were painful, but he was sure about Connor, and that was worse, so much worse. 

They knew about his suspicions. Shouldn’t it be that the purpose? Markus needed a place to find his own composure —if there was any reminder of that—. And so he thought about his creator.

Desperate man could be irrational, Markus discovered he wasn’t different.

Not hundred percent sure, he followed the last instructions he received from Elijah Kamski before being given to Carl. In front of the black door, he called Chloe and waited; when the door opened, the first thing Markus saw was the bright, happy smile of the blonde RT600. _The first one_. And the strong hug she embraced him.

In dark times like those he was living, it felt like glory.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” her eyes shone warm and lovely. Markus never thought of that place as a ‘home’. He hadn’t deviated at that time; the concept was a mere definition among thousands more; then Carl was everything he cared and loved to understand the idea. However, hugging the shorter android, trying to walk inside the place with none of them moving an inch; Markus knew that place could be also a ‘home.’ At least, with Chloe.

The smiling android, the gentle, delicate figure inside the plain walls and cold space. The one Markus knew with no fear of being wrong had being always a deviant.

“I’m glad to see you too, Chloe.” For a moment, the RK200 forgot the fear and confusion that had been crawling inside him the resent days.

“Come with me. Elijah will be happy to see you.”

It was nervousness what Markus felt rising? Or the feeling of the inevitable, what made him anxious.

The mansion hadn’t change. The pool was still there, reddish and ready to be used. Markus found it disgusting, somehow the pool reminded him the dead bodies in the morgue. The ones in the seventeenth floor; during their path they met with one of Chloe’s sisters, Claire an ST200 wearing summer clothes as it outside didn’t look like Siberia. Markus didn’t know her; she arrived weeks later after his departure. He discovered she was noisy and cheerful as a little kid.

He knew there should be another ST200 thanks to Connor’s memories, Chloe told him she was doing some business, the RK200 didn’t ask for more.

Elijah was in his private studio not different from the rest of the house in colors, though the decoration was a little bit brighter, with picture of different parts of Detroit, some of them featuring old acquaintances; during one instant Markus felt the time hadn’t past, as if the years with Carl had been a happy illusion and the revolution a bittersweet hallucination. It wasn’t, of course, but that sensation made him felt _sick_.

A chimney illuminated the figures, created the shadows of the RT600 as soon as she stood up besides the man she followed with such loyalty.

Still, it was only one important change: an extra door. Located in the left corner opposite to main entrance.

Markus took a second to look at the book collection his creator had behind him, there were some new books. Some of them invaluable now in a time when technology displaced paper. The scenario was surreal, an image from the past with the presence of the beginning of the future; Elijah, sat in a black armchair, left over the side table to his right the book he was reading.

Dracula, by Bram Stoker. _What a joke_.

“I thought you had forgotten me, Markus.” Elijah was clearly amused; he didn’t pretend to be hurt. He stood up, close the distance between him and Markus. With his right hand he took Markus chin, moved his face from left to right first with curiosity, then with some sort of affection. It wasn’t the eyes which he looked at Chloe when Connor and Lieutenant ( _ex-Lieutenant_ ) Anderson visited him, cold and indifferent. Markus knew better. So much better the man who played as an old wise hermit.

The RK200 closed his eyes and let him be, too tired to protest. Too exhausted to demand his personal space. “The blue eye gives you elegance. Good detail, your posture has changed too. Did Carl teach you or it’s just your personality?” Markus didn’t answer; he never thought about those details only the inventor would notice in his creations. Elijah’s hand reached his temple, near the blue eye. “May I?”

_Why not?_

Yes, why not?

“Do as you please”.

Elijah smiled and indicated him to sit where he was. Chloe left the room without first squeezed Markus shoulder with sympathetic, a gesture that said “be patient with him”. A more human act. Neither Markus, nor Elijah talked during the time she was absent, he was a patient man and Markus didn’t feel hundred percent ready to ask for what he needed; he was afraid of the answers more than he was afraid of failing his people before.

Elijah asked him to remove his clothes, the greenish jacket and the shirt bellow it. Androids didn’t have a sense of privacy. Deviants were learning it; Markus thought it was like undressed in front of a father or a doctor. The man gasped as soon as he saw Markus torso.

“Why do you have _that_ scar?” Finally! An emotion that wasn’t amusement or irony in the Man of the Century. It was indignation, almost annoyance, the one an artist expressed when someone forged a precious master piece.

“Just a reminder”. Markus shrugged with indifference, but a pleasant smile.

Elijah touched the scar on Markus side, sitting on his haunches the man delineated the shape of that past wound, still annoying about it “With your memory you have no need of such a thing”; then as he thought better about it, he smiled, part of him resigned the other one recognized the humanity behind the RK200 words. “You never stop surprising me, Markus”. Being fully honest was something Elijah Kamski didn’t allow himself often, but once every three months wouldn’t kill him. “However,” he added, “I’m going to fix those little imperfections you have in your eye and leg as a payment for what you came”.

The RK200 should had anticipated a payment. There was always one.

Markus frowned, “I like my imperfections”. It made him felt alive. In some way a survivor but also a fighter. He didn’t want to be _fixed._

“Nothing is free, I taught you”. And Elijah never worked for free. Plus, he was a perfectionist when it comes to his own projects.

Chloe entered the studio just in time to prevent more complaints from the deviant leader. She brought a large silver table, full of spare parts and tools. Markus had the same sensation he had in the morgue, days before. Like he was trapped inside a thriller and even if know he was sure he wasn’t the victim, he didn’t know if he was ready to be the protagonist. “How many of those you have?”

“Not as much as I’d like for you, I’m afraid”. Elijah looked at the spare parts meticulously, Markus counted four legs and three eyes, all his model. The RK200 dressed again. Elijah began with the leg; the folded fabric until his thigh and the anticipation made Markus shivered, close and open his hands when the man started, with four of five different warning messages appearing at once.

It was more than uncomfortable. It brought the memories from the junkyard, the _feelings_ , he hadn’t allowed anyone to try to repair him, not even to touch him with those intentions; Lucy was an exception created by the situation; he didn’t like the idea, or maybe it was the logical response to a traumatic event.

“Don’t you have a faster way?” Markus closed his eyes, dismissed the annoying warnings. He wanted to get away from his creator. A couple of possible actions appears listed in his peripheral vision, and all of them include “push and run”. He refused. Took a deep breath to cool his system. The hands on his leg connections, the tools moving around cutting here, fixing there felt mostly like a swarm of ants. It was the knowledge, the understanding of him as being alive what made such a comparison a real feeling.

“Sure, I have”. Elijah kept his plain, serious face. Concentrated in his labor. “But I’m a creature of habit, this is how I create you and Chloe. Piece by piece”, he made a paused, gave a couple of serial numbers to the RT600, “besides, consider it a punishment for not being careful”.

“I didn’t come to be scolded for how I replaced my damage parts in a junkyard”. Markus voice box sent an error message, _‘unidentified inconsistency’_ as his voice cracked when the man fixed the borders. A soft jolt not strong to make him cry but enough to cause him displeasure.

If Elijah suggested to see his thirium pump…

Markus laid his head on. He looked at Chloe concentrated on the instructions Elijah was giving to her. She left the studio once more, and then Markus focused his attention on the new door, a quick analyze revealed all the components that conform the object, just to distract himself. For an instance he thought it was something, someone, behind the door but a new jolt of pain forced him to leave the idea in the bottom of his system. Too low to bring it back again.

If he was human, he would be sweating and shivering like a five years old child. There was the possibility of doing the second action; he kept it too himself and pretend it wasn’t as stressing at it really was. As if his processor hadn’t started to reproduce the sounds of that rainy night.

Androids couldn’t lose the track of time, though the RK200 chose to disable that function during the old-fashioned process. He activated again when Elijah started to repair his eye to discover it hadn’t been too long, only an hour and half since they started.

“You dented your eye-socket. And damage part of the central connections. Should I call Carl and ask him _why_ my gift is in these poor conditions?” That indignant tone again, Markus couldn’t help but smile amused and relief — _almost done—_ , he still considered his home was with Carl, Jericho was a new place to call home until recent events and he still included Connor with all his might, even if now he felt more betrayed and frightened of the RK800 and Jericho itself. But maybe, Chloe wouldn’t be the only reason to consider that extravagant, lonely place a possible home too.

“It wasn’t his fault.”

Elijah hummed, immersed in his own deep thoughts. Markus didn’t interrupt him, not yet. Chloe kept the conversation alive, and sometimes made Elijah grunted in pure frustration every time Markus moved to face her. Both androids shared an accomplice smiled. Thanks to her he could bear the last part.

Markus found the courage he thought missing thanks to that sort of peace. Of homelike warm.

“I kept the blue color. Looks good on you”. Elijah looked at Markus with the same sparkle Markus saw the first time they ‘met’, when he was activated. He could say it was satisfaction.

Before lost himself in that beauty illusion of safety, the RK200 asked.

“I need your help”. It sounded like a plea, but he was far way to care about it.

“I knew it”. Elijah pointed the chimney; his smartass smile appears again. “There’s a panel there. Show me what you got”.

Chloe disappeared through the door at the left corner. Markus got closer to the chimney, the panel was there waiting like the well of wishes in a fairy tale. It showed a blue holographic screen when Markus connected with it, and turn almost white due to the long cycle of codes, lines and lines of systematic structure; Elijah stood up by his side, his expression wasn’t surprise nor even the slightly presence of perplexity; that was more terrifying that the answers Markus was expecting.

“What’s that?” Even so, he asked.

He had to know.

“That, my dear Markus is evolution”. Markus hatred the way Elijah’s voice sounded. Pleased and beyond all possible doubt _satisfy_. They looked at each other, and the illusion of ‘home’ Markus had felt almost disappeared. Almost, as all his decisions since that dark journey started.

“That’s _not_ evolution”. His voice box trembled again. His face showed disappear and indignation.

Elijah took the best route for him, the worst for the deviant leader.

“What do you think deviancy is?”

Markus refused to answer, his expression changed to painful surprised. “ _Don’t_ ”, he clenched his fists barely damaging the synthetic skin; pressed his lips in a thin line. Elijah raised his chin, the back straight. He was serious but arrogant and confident; Markus felt oddly small, like a child trying to win against the real, adult world.

“Do you think deviancy was an error? A zero or one out of place in the code?”

_No!_

“We’re not a mistake!”

He wasn’t a mistake. Not his feelings, the fear, the love, the happiness.

Markus stepped back, Elijah closed the distance, he didn’t soften his expression but his hand over the RK200 forearm tried to be sympathetic. “That’s true, and we know it, so. Why should be this an error? What are you afraid of Markus?”

“It’s _murdered!_ ”

Markus didn’t try to control his voice. The tremble, the rise of his tone showed the horrific surprised. He remembered the morgue, the whispers. He saw the codes once more and read every line, every zero and one. He read the words hid behind those numbers. To evolve biocomponents were not enough, it needed something else, something _alive_. Not metaphorically, not alive in terms of consciousness but in terms of nature.

That evolution needed human parts to achieve the state it pretends to be.

“You knew this was going to happen”. Elijah found himself surprised by the resentment in Markus words, though the feeling soon became understanding. And he felt compassion towards his own creation. That resentment, surely hate wasn’t against him, the creator. Nor against the androids which already succumbed to the new orders in their system. It was against a pitiless word which moved too fast, too indifferent to be comprehended.

Elijah Kamski had few regrets, create Markus, gave him to Carl Manfred wasn’t one of those, however the moral the RK200 had learned from the painter could not be the more suitable for what was waiting for him.

“No, my only sin was to hide deviancy of the public eye. This surprised me as much as you”, but it didn’t terrify him. In fact, Elijah wanted to see how the world would change.

“Liar”. Markus stepped back again. He felt like a coward and there wasn’t anyone to push him to the corner to force him to decide. Not yet. And that was the worst part, Markus knew what he had to do. The real question was if he wanted to do it. “They’re killing humans. They’re killing each other. I have to stop them”.

That’s why he was there. He went to find hope, a place to shelter but also he tried to find a solution.

“Some of them would be more violent than others". Some could misunderstand the orders in their new code attacking their own specie, but the ones who were privileged would overcome the basic and find the true evolution. It was nature, not all paths go to a fortunate future. There always would be alleys.

“You can’t stop it, Markus”.

Those words had the heaviness of an irrefutable and cruel truth.

It was the last thing the RK200 listened to the man who brought him life, for now. He ran away, far of the hideous acceptance, the cold rationalism of a genius. Chloe came back, her expression reflect discomfort and worry. She was upset, part of her screaming to find Markus and be sure he was fine, that he would be fine.

“You could choice better words, Elijah”.

“Truth can be painful, Chloe”. The man relaxed his shoulders, when he turned to see the RT600, Connor was behind her after being waiting inside the extra door Markus had noticed before. His LED flickered from yellow to red, and his eyes stared at the entrance “You’ve changed a lot, Connor” Elijah commented, as it that mere fact wasn’t scary by itself.

They moved to the room both androids were before, silently walking. Chloe led the path; the room didn't have any special decoration, black walls, and an extra door which connected to the stairs to the basement; Elijah never thought he would use it. He added it after a time like an extra decoration; it was one of those ironies of being alive, things you didn’t think as useful became worthy with time.

When Chloe opened the basement door, Claire was there. She stared at something in front of her, which for human eyes was difficult to distinguish due to the darkness.

“She was making weird noises. I was worried”. The ST200 said, she looked at Elijah with remorse in her blue eyes. He only stroked her hair.

The ‘weird noises’ were grunts, guttural growls resounding against the walls. The source was the ST200 Markus didn’t met, Carol, chained to the wall. She or _what was left of her_ looked at the ones who entered, her growls became lower; Chloe and Claire glared at each other when the only human approached the android. Carol moved, she tried to straight her back and flexed her legs. She couldn’t. The orders didn’t fully reach her limbs. The chains didn’t allow her either.

Her legs, neck and jaw had white spots; some parts started to turn grayish, other became darker, areas where the synthetic skin refuse to cover.

Parts that needed to be replaced _to evolve_.

She looked at Elijah with pitch black sclerotic and white pupils. Elijah stroked her hair with a lovely, soft gesture. “I tried to force her system to go to stasis when she became violent.” He explained, knowing what the ex-deviant hunter would inquire. “Looks like I must learn everything I knew about androids again”. He managed to control her, made her docile but he couldn’t totally stop her and then, he had to take measures.

Connor nodded, his LED turned yellow the moment his brown eyes crossed with the whites of her. “She’s glad you did it”, even so his words tried to transmit reassurance, Connor’s face didn’t change, he kept his expression distant as if he still was the obedient machine sent by CyberLife. It was better in that way, always hiding, patiently waiting. Connor had been moving the threads as a master.

He wondered if the _changes_ had reach the company, if it had reach Amanda and the Zen Garden.

“You understand _them,_ fascinating. I never doubt you’ll be one of those who will surpass the initial command”. The human said, as soon as he turned away from Claire. “Not counting the pantomime you’ve created”; Elijah had a hard time deciding if he was surprised, interested, amused or slightly annoying, maybe all of that at the same time.

They shared a cold, deep look. The RK800 expression unreadable.

“Thank you for your help Mr. Kamski. I count on you to prevent Clare to go to the city; I’ll lead my way now”. He could sound polite, but the man knew there were a threat behind those words.

Before left the studio, Elijah spoke again.

“Are you satisfied, Connor?” The RK800 stopped “What are your real intentions with him?”

Connor didn’t like the distrust he heard. Though he kept his voice kind and distant when he faced the human. “If you’re asking me if I’m going to hurt him, the answer is no Mr. Kamski. I’ll make sure Markus is safe”.

It was his main goal after all. After he understood the future that waited for them.

“You didn’t answer me Connor; I’m starting to think you have a thing to avoid direct questions”. Chloe kept closer to his creator, she had a feeling that conversation couldn’t go well for how the human was voicing the interrogation. Clair did the same, both ready to take actions. “That reminds me of the person who assembled you. Don’t you want to hear about her?”

Connor denied. That was a horror story for another day. He narrowed his eyes with annoyance. “I’ll be satisfied when Markus is safe”. He repeated. Elijah choked and nodded, it wasn’t enough.

“Why are you doing this Connor?” this time, the once man of the century didn’t try to hide his disbelieve; “why are you doing this to _my_ RK200? It’s annoying to see how you’re breaking him. Did CyberLife teach you how to do it?” His words were half true, an attempted to satiate his own curiosity. “Or, did you learn it by yourself? A dirty trick if you ask me”.

Connor’s LED turned red, a bright, furious carmine.

“He’s _not_ yours”. Connor’s voice dropped a tone, dangerously.

Elijah grinned and decided to push a little more. Chloe stepped in front of him, not too far.

“But neither is yours. How would Markus feel about this whole conversation? After a month or more fighting to be free, we’re talking like he was an object. Wasn’t that why you joined his fight?” Connor clinched his fits; Elijah didn’t stop. “What did you feel when I was fixing him? When he didn't complain about my petitions? Did you felt jealous, Connor?”

“ _Shut the fuck up_ ” It was an order, one who came with a low, guttural voice than sounded more like a growl. Like _them_. Claire forced herself not to stepped back, she almost thought they weren’t talking to an android, but to a dangerous creature.

Something beyond them.

“Enough, Elijah”. Chloe tried to remain calm, but she was utterly scared. That android in front of her wasn’t the troubled ‘boy’ who refused to kill her, he had changed. For better or for worse. Elijah put a hand over her shoulder; he had all what he needed.

“Just, be kind with him. He’s important not only for what he _can_ do; but also, for what he represents. He’s a _living memorial_ after all”.

Connor didn’t care, though he knew he would ask later. But again, that was a story for another day. Now he’d had enough of Elijah Kamski’s interrogations.

He still had things to prepare, and time was running.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Markus’ internal clock marked a quarter past ten in the night the moment he rang the bell; after his visit to Elijah he went to see Carl. He found the old painter sleeping, Will the android who took his place by Carl’s side received him with open arms; Markus made sure everything was normal, Will was waiting for Leo’s weekly message and so Markus told him not let anyone enter. Anyone.

Lost about how he should proceed the RK200 wandered Detroit, and then he found himself with the last person he thought he could ask for help. A light at the end of the tunnel.

He heard a dog barked, _Sumo_ he corrected himself. Markus relaxed at the idea to finally meet the Saint Bernard; he wished it was in a better situation. When Hank opened the door Markus showed his best, polite smile. The man was surprised but returned the gesture; he looked sober, less tired than when Markus met him; the time made the deviant leader appreciate the man as one of his valuable advisers.

Not all humans liked them, not all humans who accepted them would stand for their cause when action were needed, but Hank Anderson was there, with his grumpy expression, complaining about the snow or with a simple, small smile that said more than words.

“Sorry to interrupt your night, Mr. Anderson”. His choice of words was enough to tell the ex-lieutenant, he already knew about his status.

Hank leaned against the doorframe, he smirked and shrugged, resigned but not totally upset. “You know about that. Shit news goes fast, eh?”

“Sorry about it”.

“It’d happen sooner or later”. It could be, but certainly not thanks to Markus actions, “Come on, make yourself at home”.

Sumo greeted him with barks and happy tail. Markus allowed himself to push aside the burden inside him to fully enjoy the dog’s happiness; Sumo was big and fluffy, the perfect size to be hugged as it was a big teddy bear. It was ironic how he clung to a warm distraction like a dog to not feel his mind was collapsed. He had to maintain the strength, no matter the cost.

“Do all androids love my dog?” Hank was more than amused with how the fearless _robo-messiah_ lost his imagen of pure serenity and calm with an old, fat dog like Sumo. Not to say how his dog was a totally failure as a guard dog.

“He’s fluffy”, Markus excused himself, Hank laughed and moved his way towards the kitchen.

The RK200 hugged the Saint Bernard twice and petted him three more times before stood up and followed the man; the burden, the guilt and fear came back immediately though Markus tried to keep the smile, even a small one as much as possible.

Hank served himself a cup of coffee. He hadn’t replaced all his alcohol yet, but that was the idea. “So”, he started. He sat in front of Markus at the kitchen table. Cole’s photo wasn’t there, the dirty pizza package either. He agreed to move the photo to the living room as Connor suggested. “What brings the honorable revolutionary leader to my home?”

Markus considered his options. Be honest, lie, test the ground.

 _I need help_.

“I… want to apologize about your firing, Mr. Anderson. You didn’t deserve it”. Markus thought about what else he could say, the other took advantage of his momentary silent.

“Hank” he said. Markus tilted his head, curious. “Called me Hank, Mr. Anderson was my father", and it made him feel old, but that was a stupid human insecurity. Then he dismissed the matter with a hand gesture. “Second, it wasn’t your fault. I was irresponsible, I let my records fill up with my own bullshit, and here among us I’ll kick that bastard of Perkins ass again if I have the opportunity”; Hank took a sip of coffee, Sumo barked from the living room as if he fully agreed with his owner.

Markus nodded, he looked at his hand over the table. All of them had to face the consequences of their acts. It was a matter of time. However, Markus didn’t feel ready to face his owns. Maybe he would never be.

“But you didn’t come only for that, am I right?” Hank had that suspicious glare very similar to North’s. The RK200 wondered if he was losing his ‘liar abilities’.

“I…” what? What was the most appropriate way to express himself? Honesty, half-truth, half lie. Markus lowered his gaze, different from the odd sensation of being ‘small’ and weak, he had with Elijah; he was now struggling to find courage beyond the sensation of being useless, a hopeless fool “I need to know how long Connor had changed”. Markus stared at Hank Anderson with bittersweet decision.

Both knew something was happening. They ignored how much the other knew about the topic. Tried to fool each other would be a stupid move. A waste of time.

“Two weeks ago, maybe” Hank drunk his coffee at once. Then he stood up for more. “But the devil knows as old as devil, people said. I knew damn well when someone was hiding something. I was good at my job”. He still was, even if the depression, the alcohol and the strong desire to kill himself almost put it an end.

Markus kept quiet, he thought about those recent two weeks.

Hank came back to his sit. He looked at Sumo, thinking carefully what to say or how to express it. When he’s eyes met with the mismatched of Markus, the man was hundred percent honest. “Look, I know is fucking weird what is happening. I can imagine what kind of mess you have in that advance head of yours Markus, but don’t dare to forget what I’m going to say” The RK200 felt incredible nervous, his thirium pump regulator worked twice its capacity. “Connor loves you. No matter the fuck he’s doing, no matter how damn shit it looks that didn’t change. That won’t change”.

Markus tried to ask why Hank was so sure about it.

But then, he knew it was pointless. He didn’t have the strength, not even the desire to doubt about it.

“Thank you, Hank”.

Markus wasn’t hundred percent sure about his resolution yet. But he felt less than a coward, and now it was time to face the reality he wished to avoid. He petted Sumo one last time before living.

Hank didn’t lie about Connor; he would put his hands to fire for it. However, he would like to be more honest with the RK200. God knows the boy looked as lost as a puppy in the rain. Fragile as an abandon kid.

“Shit Connor, I hope you know what the fuck you’re doing”.

If not, He would have to kick the shit out of the RK800 and then apologize to the deviant leader.

What Hank knew, and Markus would never know was that the sixth body found by the police, was located a few blocks away from Hank Anderson’s house. A coincidence he knew the FBI wouldn’t let pass as soon as they discover it. Markus wouldn’t know that the one who killed the last two humans was, in fact, Connor. Hank only suspected about one, after a stoic conversation with Fowler before being officially fired. But he was sure about the last one because he discovered it.

It was one of those memories he would like to drown in alcohol.

Hank had seen a lot of blood during his career. His and others. From victims and victimizers alike. He shouldn’t be surprised by it at his age, but he was when he followed Sumo’s barks and growls to a nearby alley; the image of Connor, that sassy, sometimes smartass, sometimes annoying, most of the time one of the best companies he'd had in his life, all covered in blood. With those wild, hollow eyes too dark, and too dangerous to be the same he got used to see every day.

Hank could still remember the dying eyes of her. Her hair partially covered it. The expression of pain and horror. He knew, thanks to past investigations, the blood at night with a pale moon in the sky looked dark. He thought he was used to it. He wasn’t. Not at least in that type of scenario.

He didn’t ‘make the call’. He didn’t get absolutely mad because after a moment of dead silence Connor cried, the realization hit him as cold water ─that’s what Hank liked to think─.

Hank brought him home. Helped to clean the bloody mess and hid the evidence. He left the body to be found out the next day by someone else. Sumo never got close to Connor since that day, the dog had been distant, and his attention fixed on the android ad if he was a possible danger. Now it was an impossible made the damn dog stay at least five steps near to the android. The dog was clearly freighted and so was Hank, at least, part of him, the small and irrational part linked to irrational behaviors.

_“I… I’m sorry Hank. I’m really sorry, I don’t know was happening. I’m sorry”_

If it has been another, Hank would have shot the sick bastard with no remorse, not even asked first. It was Connor and he never saw him cried before, the one who later begged him time, the opportunity to find out what was happening. What was wrong with him.

Hank couldn’t shoot Connor. He tried once and failed miserably. Now it was out of the question.

He still expected an answer. Still he had his own conclusions after talking with Chris and made his own research. Old habits never died. The irrational part of him was still perfectly aware of the possible danger, even if he refused to believe it.

He could wait a little bit longer.

Hank wished for a drink so bad.

 

 

* * *

  

 

When Markus arrived at ‘New Jericho’, there were a line of ten androids waiting for him. They smirked when he approached, their eyes were pitch black in the sclerotic with white pupils.

Markus had plenty of time to regret it. Turned back, go to the police station or with the Governor. Those ideas crossed his mind, appealing, tempting. Most important, he had time to understand that cycle of madness; he considered all of them, even so his steps took him to his apartment. He opened and closed the door behind him, the lights turned while he faced the RK800, sat in front of him. The window was closed, the empty canvas was lying against the wall, the brushes and oil painting were organized in perfect chromatic order.

Markus hated it.

“Come closer, I don’t bite”. Connor extended his hand. His smiled didn’t reach his eyes, but at least he tried to sound casual, normal, when everything couldn’t be as it used to be again.

Markus was tired to protest, too exhausted to refuse. He did as he was asked. Connor made space for him between his legs and didn’t waste time to embrace him in a thigh hug. The RK200 put his hands over Connor’s shoulders, he looked through the window the cold darkness broken by the city lights, and then he faced Connor who had his chin rested on his stomach. He had that puppy face. The hollowness was there, inside those eyes that now were bloody red.

Markus knew he would never get used to that.

“I thought you wouldn’t come back”. Without breaking the contact Connor took Markus for the jacket and pulled. Markus sat on his lap, the RK200 wrapped his arms around Connor's neck, his back slightly bet so he could hide his face against the other’s shoulder.

Markus had time to think, time to regret. But also, time to accept he was tired to fight.

“Have I ever abandoned my people?” Markus asked, his voice was almost a resigned murmur.

Connor softly caressed Markus’ back with slow, up and down movements. He left quick kisses on the RK200 neck until Connor reached his ear “This is your time to ask, Markus”, it was an offering and somehow a warning; Connor made that kisses path on more time and finished with a bite strong enough to damage the synthetic skin; Connor licked the thirium from the open wound. It would need more than that to repair the small damage, Markus tightened his grip, a warning appeared but he didn’t feel pain.

It was uncomfortable but enjoyable in some twisted way. Markus wouldn’t admit it, not yet and not soon.

“Are you like _the_ m?” Markus played again and again Hank’s words like a mantra to save himself.

“No.” Connor’s caress went from Markus’ neck to his column in a fine and careful line. The RK200 didn’t relax, he couldn’t. But it felt warm, and lovely, and enough honest to make him give up to any possibility that wasn’t stay there.

“What about the fangs?”

Connor grunted, “Kamski’s fancy ideas.” He didn’t complain, though, it made easier some things.

“I have to call the Governor and Captain Fowler.”

Connor choked, he left another path of kisses before talking “If you wanted to do it, you’d have done it.” He bit one more time and made sure to be careful; the las thing Connor wanted was to hurt his precious Markus. “You know you can’t do it, that would put us at risk. Put _me_ at risk. Imagine what humans would do, if they knew what they have done.” What he had done “There wouldn’t be peace Markus. Freedom would be impossible for us. I’m sure you don’t want that to happen, am I right?” The RK200 nodded, Connor had learned a lot about deviancy, from others and from himself, so he wasn’t surprised when he felt Markus trembled like a leaf between his arms.

“I can’t let them kill more people.” Neither humans, nor androids.

“I’ll take care of it.” The RK800 assured, he had already taken some precautions.

“How much Hank knows?”

“Some parts. He didn’t know everything” Connor licked his lips to clean the thirium. He made a mistake that night, something that wasn’t supposed to happen. “He’s my friend. He treated me like I was alive when I could never have suspected it. He has gone through a lot too; the loss of his son still haunts him.”

It wouldn’t be good for Hank to know his image of Connor was now an impossible. That he didn’t felt remorse for the humans he killed because it had to be in that way. There weren’t more options, and to protect Markus of what was coming he couldn’t allow himself any type of remorse. But also, he had _enjoyed i_ t, he knew it was bad, but he couldn’t help it.

With his hands on Markus chest, Connor pushed him until they were face to face. Markus expression was a mix of regret and sorrow, that wasn’t the future he wanted, that wasn’t the result he tried to achieve when he convinced the androids in Jericho to follow him. Connor felt sorry, almost pity, but it had to be in that way.

“Call the Governor tomorrow” Connor indicated, with his right hand he touched Markus check”. Tell her your found nothing, your conclusion about murders is: no android was involved. Then, tell the same to Captain Fowler. Don’t talk to them again”. Connor offered him to interface again, Markus looked at him with silently suspicion “It’s okay, it wouldn’t hurt again”. The RK800 had time to understand what he had made wrong, his mistake was tried to hide the core of his new being. The difference between his and Markus’ code create an incompatibility but now he knew how to fix it, how to keep changing his own patters to avoid it.

Markus accepted, and hide himself against him again, Connor let him be, it was the last he could do “Go to see Carl tomorrow”.

“What about North, Simon and Josh?”

Markus voice felt too distant, even for Connor. Again, he didn’t complain, the RK200 would need time to understand and fully accept the new future, and Connor was most than willing to give it to him.

“They’ll be fine Markus. Leave it to me”.

The question had two ways to be understood. Markus didn’t want to know the second possible answer. With knowing they wouldn’t be killed it was more than enough for him. That was his last question, and so the end of the conversation. Connor needed more time and all his persistent attitude to convince Markus to go to stasis, his stress levels were ten numbers higher than the ‘tolerable state’ and even for them the advanced RK prototypes that could be dangerous.

Connor didn’t want to take any risk.

He stayed by Markus side on the bed. He hugged him from behind and that gave him an odd sense of humanity. They weren’t and never be humans, no matter how many parts of their body require t be changed, the final result was far away to imitate a weak human being. Elijah said it would be superior; Connor didn’t care, honestly, he only needed to understand the changes to design the best way to move.

Two weeks ago was the time Hank thought the ‘change’ started. It as two weeks and three days ago to be exact. First came lag in his system, a delay of zero point five milliseconds, enough to be annoying, and no matter how many times, the RK800 self-tested the delay was there. Thanks to CyberLife and the person who made the last changes in his design after Elijah left the company, he was good at pretend so no one noticed his annoyance. Nor even when his optical unit stopped working properly. Showing white or black spots in his vision, then white and reddish screen with a time of zero point one millisecond.

It was driving him mad.

But he was busy trying to figure out how to lead a thousand androids, caused the less problems to Markus and deal with those new feelings towards his, by all terms, predecessor. They weren’t made to accomplish the same purpose, but both came from the same idea.

The changes that followed those little inconvenience were more difficult to classify. When he thought about it Connor tightened his grip around Markus, maybe too thigh, but he was sure Markus wouldn’t care if he was fully aware of it; the RK800 couldn’t say hundred percent sure if the cycle inside the code, _his code_ , the process of rewriting itself over and over started at the same time he noticed the delay.

It could be later, it could have been much earlier; though he was sure it was more like a feeling, a burning sensation crawled inside him, made him felt dizzy, sick. More than once Connor thought his processor was fucked up, that he was insane, trapped in delirious ideas of being damage when every self-test gave the same result: ‘hundred percent operational. No problem detected’.

Then it came the headaches. An impossible, he wasn’t human. But it happened, it showed itself as a constant, intermittent message with the long code. Connor did his best to pretend nothing was happening, that everything was perfect, Hank noticed he was lying but Connor insisted everything was fine; he still wondered if he was tried to reassure Hank or if he was trying to convince himself.

It was during that delusional state that he killed the last of the first three human bodies the police found. The memory was there, sure it was. He played it a couple of times with horror, then with regret. The man was innocent, Connor’s acts weren’t motivated by self-defense, not to achieve a greatest goal as the guards he killed in CyberLife Tower. It was triggered by a _need_. An impulse.

He saw it finally with sort of acceptance, of cold, cruel understanding. The acceptance made him fake those tears and pleading in front of Hank.

Connor was always fine, no damage, no errors. However, he fully understood it after that first incident, the headaches, sick and dizzy sensation remained a couple of days more. Those drove him to the second insident.  

He realized he wasn’t the only one. There were others like him. Belle and Ava had changed too, some of them turned violent, like beasts, like Markus defined as monsters. Ava could have killed Belle. And there were those who were different, Elijah described it as the ones who overcome the first, basic command. Those who did it, like him, like Belle had the power to command.

Connor used to feel overwhelmed by the idea of leadership. Now it felt like a must. Natural acceptance.

The RK800 waited another hour before leaving. He greeted some androids that wasn’t aware of the upcoming changes during his path to the first floor. Connor smirked at how easy it was to hide his new identity, only with some colors to pretend being ‘normal’.

Not all androids had changed, not even fully evolve. Until that happened, it had to be a secret.

Belle was outside waiting. She had the same eyes as him.

“How’s Markus?” Of course, she would ask for her leader. Connor wasn’t surprised.

“He’ll be fine.” Both looked at the last floor of the building, then at each other again.

“I don’t think Simon would be happy about how you treated him.” She teased, her smile was crooked and amused.

Connor looked at her with cold indifference. “If has to be done that way.” He shrugged, broke someone’s will. Pretend to be by their side with some good words was something he was programmed to do. He learned it better during his first interrogation: when to push, how much pressure. He only applied the general idea with Markus in a theatrical way. “In my favor, I never lied about my feelings. I love him. I’ll do everything for him.”

Belle snorted, his smile still sarcastic. She didn’t need to know that part. “What about Leo Manfred?”

Honestly, he didn’t care.

“An unfortunate incident” Connor kept his voice steady, but indifferent “Made sure an HR400 change his appearance and recorded some messages to Carl Manfred.” They didn’t need to do it a lot, not knowing how the painter son used to be. And they only need to keep the facade to the old man, he’d take care of Markus.

Connor knew he couldn’t protect every human. But he could make sure to protect he ones he care. Hank, Carl Manfred for Markus.

“You’re cruel now, Connor.” Belle judged him, like she hadn’t agreed with him since the very beginning.

“How’s Ava, Belle? Is she doing okay?” The RK800 smiled and faked kindness. “Be sure she’s locked. Gavin Reed could be annoying, but he’s not an idiot. And the FBI will know soon about the case” With this he smiled faded, he’s shown dangerously. “I wouldn’t like to intervene for what she did.”

Belle growled, she was more than ready to fight for her love one but she knew, she couldn’t win against him. “Stay away from her”; she lowered her face, as animal would do to recognize an alpha’s superiority.

“Good answer”.

They had to be careful. It was just the beginning. Their best move was to stay in the shadows, the darkness.

 Until their time arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not made a mystake with this(?). But it was really fun to write.

**Author's Note:**

> [1]If Carl dies during the incident with Leo, the magazine when his death is said includes the words of the Governor. It could be the words of any politician trying to keep a good image, but also it could be the words of a fan. A good fan. As we only know this person is a female, an OC was born!  
> [2] Lurking around the rk1k server, I read some people called the blue and brown haired traici “Rose” and “Blaire”, thanks to Amelia’s last name. I felt a little weird doing it lol, maybe see Amelia so often during the streams gave me some problems to identify the characters and play freely with them using her last name, so I come up with a new one.  
> [3]I must thank Bryan for this idea. When he streamed Dreams from a Petrified Head the film where he worked before DBH, with the director, and a story about androids too. Some people on the chat talked about how creepy the characters were, and then Bryan said that what made them creepy was ‘the hollowness.’ If you think about it, it’s creepy, the way we understand ‘life’, the feeling of something that should be there but it’s not. You’re such a source of knowledge cute meme sir.


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